Desert Dreams
by Mason6856
Summary: Join a young survivor, Jack Ryder, as he rises against the judicial system of his tribe, becomes a wyvern rider, and lives as an outcast, struggling to survive the harsh desert world he was born into.
1. Chapter 1

The Universe is filled with an infinite amount of stories. It would be fairly interesting to talk about any one of them, like the soldier fighting for his country, or the first contact between two alien species. Or maybe it would be more interesting to talk about two teens whose parents don't want them together. Perhaps horror is more your speed, and so the story of a hotel that has been reportedly haunted for generations would be more interesting. Whatever the case, you're only hear to read one story. My story.

At first, it's not very interesting, unless you hear the history that predates me. I'll give you the run-down. See, my parents' generation was born as adults on whatever this place is. Now, I know it sounds crazy, but we don't know where we are. All I know is that my parents, and around two hundred other adults, all woke up one day in various places around this gigantic desert. It was hot, and very dangerous. A lot of people died within the first few days. For protection, people grouped up in small groups called "tribes". Each tribe had a ruler, and some were a lot bigger than others. As humans took up space, they grew more advanced. Pretty soon, they were building structures and making weapons. Why need weapons if there's no mention of war? Good question. The answer is pretty terrifying, actually. This desert was inhabited by huge dinosaurs. Dinosaurs that could rip you limb from limb with only a little effort. Small, fast raptors would attack in small groups, tearing through a human in barely an instant. Now, how would we know that they're called raptors? Pretty interesting. That's the other thing about the adults' awakening. Each and every one of them had a small, diamond shaped gem embedded in their arm. As far as we can tell, the gem somehow projects images directly onto our eyes. So, if we concentrate, we can see a kind of name tag attached to the dinosaurs. We also have other methods of gaining information. Occasionally, we've found small boxes that have papers in them. These papers are signed with various names, but they seem to be from three main people. Our guess is that these were our predecessors, the group that came before us. For some, that notion drove them to insanity. For the others, it simply hardened their resolve to survive. And in order to survive, you needed to live on safe land. There was a rather limited quantity of that. Because of this, wars broke out between tribes. At first, this wasn't a huge deal because bows and arrows would only do so much damage. But then, the implant changed that. In addition to teaching us about dinosaurs, the implant also taught us how to make more advanced structures and tools. Soon, we had access to metal tools, and eventually, guns. Guns. Humans, the most destructive species ever imagined, now had access to a portable killing machine the likes of which the world has never known. You might be wondering how I know so much about the implant if I wasn't dropped down here.

That's a pretty good question. I'm told that when I was born, I didn't have an implant. But then, as soon as I reached about age 25, when I finally stopped growing, I disappeared for two days. I don't remember anything about those two days, but when I reappeared, I had an implant in my arm, and I knew all about the planet Earth and human history. But I digress, back to the tribe wars. Eventually, tribes moved into separate areas of the desert, with three main tribes a few others scattered in the sandy desert and inner area. These three main tribes inhabited the land underneath and around these three huge obelisk things that floated in the air. My tribe, the largest tribe, inhabited the land underneath a green-colored obelisk. We were very organized, and about as wealthy as it gets. Green obelisk has the most access to oil, a vital resource to progression. We were about 75 strong, which is extremely large when you think about how many people started out on this world. When you reached the age that you received your implant, you are assigned a dinosaur to ride. That's another great thing that happened, we learned to tame and domesticate the beasts that once harmed us. There were harvesters that rode dinosaurs such as thorny dragons and doedicurus, transporters that rode tapejara or morellatops, and there were the soldiers that rode raptors, T-rexes, and Argentavis. These are all very cool categories, but I left one out. This last category is the riders. Now, you might be wondering why they're called the riders, if all of us have to ride dinosaurs. See, these last people are extremely rare, in fact we only have three in our ranks. These riders ride the legendary-class beasts that are wyverns and rock elemental golems. My tribe currently had a few wyvern eggs, and no rock elementals.

It was my dream to become a rider.


	2. Loss

=- Punishment -=

Like a snail creeping over a boulder, the hot desert sun slowly climbed over the horizon, illuminating the dark, harsh land. Small beams of light pierced through the clay structures created by small tribes of men and women. As a beam of light pierced my wall and hit my eyes, I squinted in tired confusion as my dark hand reached up to shield my eyes from the barrage of light that disoriented me. Slowly, I sat up in my small bed, stretching my cramped joints. As with any other day, I was not looking forward to the hard work ahead of me. My parents had been harvesters, using small dinosaurs like the Ankylosaurus or the Parasaur to harvest huge amounts of metal or berries. As my parents' son, I was destined to continue on as a harvester. A life of glory and excitement, like that of the Riders, was not to be mine. I got up from my bed, crossed my small room to the large storage cabinet that contained my meager possessions, and removed my clothing. It wasn't anything fancy, just some cloth clothing that had been adapted with silk into tough material that would withstand the harsh conditions of the desert. As I donned my shirt and pants, I thought about the coming days. Most days were the same, like this one, and were filled with hard work. But every year, there was one week that held no work. This week was called "Festival Week". I was looking forward to this year's festival week because my friend, Kyp, had promised me a ride on his Rex. Kyp was destined to be a powerful soldier, a fearsome opponent in battle. So while I, a gatherer, learned from my parents how to carry more things, craft various building structures, and make fine metal tools used to gather obscene amounts of materials, Kyp learned the best ways to attack the various carnivores around the World, from lightning fast raptors to poison spitting wyverns. Kyp spent time developing his strength in battle, becoming a fearsome opponent capable of killing most men with a few hits.

As I tugged on my tough gloves and boots, I stood and pushed open the yellow-brown door that would allow me to enter my day of labor. As I trudged outside, I spotted my familiar-looking Anky, Tugg, waiting obediently outside my house. Some of the fancier houses had nice pens for their dinosaurs to rest in. Not mine. I climbed up and straddled Tugg's uncomfortable back, resting in the tough leather saddle that was strapped to Tugg's back. As I urged Tugg forward, I saw Kyp trotting to the the target area, carrying his great rifle and sleek sword. I forced my eyes to the path ahead, and let out a sigh of discontent as Tugg dutifully trudged forward.

I angled my implant into my eyes, allowing the projection to take over my vision and let me view the time. I let out a sigh of relief as I saw that it was time to head back. I carefully checked the area around me to make sure I hadn't missed some obvious metal node that would yield a couple dozen more of the precious material, then nudged Tugg back in the direction of the camp. As Tugg and I waddled back home, I let my eyes wander around the barren landscape that surrounded us. The soft glow of the desert sun covered me like a blanket, assuaging my tired senses, lulling me into a sense of serenity I had not felt in a long time. In the peace and quiet, I fell asleep. Because of this, I didn't notice when a young dire wolf happened to see Tugg and I meandering along and decide that we were easy prey. The grey beast leapt forward with a snarl, jarring me out of my nap. I panicked as Tugg bounced beneath me, desperately trying to avoid the wolf's sharp fangs. Struggling to get my pike out of my pack, I squeezed Tugg with my knees, using the command usually associated with gathering in the hopes that Tugg would still swing his huge tail. It worked, in a way. Tugg swung his huge tail around in a great arc, pounding the grey wolf backwards into the sand. Unfortunately, the snap maneuver forced me to sacrifice my position in the saddle, making me tumble out and onto the ground. As the Dire Wolf gathered its senses, I brought my pike into a combat position. When the Wolf leapt towards me, I jabbed with my pike, wincing as I felt the smooth metal pierce the hairy underside of the animal. The Dire Wolf whimpered and backed off, only to launch itself at me with even more ferocity, so much so that I was unable to bring my pike around again. The Wolf snarled and gnashed its teeth at me, using one giant paw to batt the point of my pike away from its foaming maw. In one final, desperate act, I lunged forward and slammed my fist into the nose of the Wolf, staggering it. I used my brief to respite to clamber backwards, desperately looking for my pike. Just as I turned around, the wolf recovered enough to jump towards me in one final, victorious lunge. When I was sure that my fate was sealed, a large shadow smashed into the side of the Wolf. As I stared in astonishment, Tugg continued to batter at the Wolf. Although Tugg was doing some serious damage, the Wolf was also doing major damage to Tugg. Tugg hit with devastating force, but the Wolf was faster, and more ruthless. It dodged and lunged, slowly tearing away at Tugg's defenses until only a bloody mass of armor and muscle remained. The bloody Wolf gnawed at Tugg's broken body, and I screamed in rage. All the years of resentment to the symbol of my low position in life dissipated as I snatched up my pike, rushing forward and plunging the bloody point into the worn body of the Wolf, the creature that took away my only loyal ally. I might not have commanded many supporters like the leaders of the tribe, or won the admiring glances of citizens like Kyp, but I had always counted on the loyalty of Tugg. I twisted and jabbed, stabbing the Feral Creature over and over again as it yowled and moaned in agony. Tears swept down my face as I collapsed over the bloody mass that was my friend.

Wiping away tears, I stood up, leaning on my pike for support. I had used the tools with me to bury a suitable grave for Tugg. In addition, I had harvested the body of the Wolf for materials. Slowly, I looked around into the night of the desert, fearing for my own safety in the cool air. How could it be possible for such a pleasant atmosphere, an empty landscape, to house such terrible dangers? As I pondered this, I gathered my possessions and walked slowly in the direction of my tribe.


	3. Scorching Anger

I staggered into camp, my hands bloody, my face covered in grime and streaked with sweat. I collapsed to the sandy ground as a few adults rushed to pick me up. My pike, worn and misshapen from combat, fell from my grip as I slipped into the welcoming embrace of sleep.

My eyes slowly opened, and I blinked to fight the disorientness I was feeling. A light, dark-haired face peered back at me, a worried grin covering most of it. I wearily smiled back at Kyp, and he sat back in his chair. I sat up, fighting back the wave of nausea that attacked me. As I rubbed my eyes, Kyp walked to the door and yelled for the Elder. I snapped backwards, suddenly alert as I realized that the Elder himself was coming to see me. The Tribe Elder was the most powerful man in the tribe, and the fact that he was our elder made him the most powerful man in the World.

"Jack, I understand that you're very tired, and probably in pain, but we really need to know what happened to you. You left the Tribe territory three days ago on a gathering expedition, but you didn't come back that night. Where were you, and what made you not come back?" He asked.

"I made my way back as soon as possible. I was coming back at the routine time but then Tugg, my Anky, and I were attacked by a powerful dire wolf," I responded, my voice choking up as I thought about poor Tugg.

"What happened? Where's Tugg? How were you caught unaware by the wolf?" He queried, fixing a hard gaze on me.

"Tugg..." I began, my voice cracking as tears came to my eyes, "Tugg is gone. He sacrificed himself to save me."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But that doesn't answer the question of how you were caught unaware by the Wolf," He replied, his hard blue eyes focusing on me.

I though it best to avoid the whole truth of the matter, and my eyes fell to the floor as I formulated my life. "We were passing by a small rock outcropping, and the Dire Wolf leapt off of the cliff to attack us," My brown eyes slowly rose to meet the harsh blue ones of the Elder. He paused for a moment, as though thinking about my answer. Suddenly he rose.

"Well, we will issue you a new Anky at once. We can't afford to fall behind on gathering, because I fear that the Blue Tribe is preparing for war," he stated, brushing off his ornate desert clothing, the smooth silk practically shimmering in the air, a result of being masterfully-crafted.

I don't know what came over me, but something inside me inspired me to say to him, "Sir, with all due respect, I think that I would be much better suited at being a soldier. I proved my worth when I fought off the desert, and made my way back to camp through the desert with no weapons besides my wits and pike."

He paused, looking back at me. His cool gaze seemed to bore into my soul, and he replied to me, "You think you're suited to be a soldier? Brag your amazing prowess in combat to Tugg. Your ignorance cost this tribe a valuable mount, and I'll be damned if you're rewarded for it." At this, my temper flared. I shot up from my seat like a rocket.

"It's not my fault you decided to stick my family with the shit detail of harvesting!" I yelled. "I know that I'll work harder than any of those soldiers out there, and to hell with any of your rules and regulations!"

I don't even know what possessed me to yell at him like that. This, the most powerful man in the world, and I was telling him to hell with his rules. What was I gonna do?! He returned my heated gaze with a cold stare of his own.

"You want to be a soldier? You think you're so good in combat? We shall see."


	4. Note from Author

|| Note from Author ||

Hey guys! I really enjoy writing this story, but it takes up a fair amount of time, so I'd really appreciate it if you guys left some reviews to let me know if you enjoy it enough that I should continue it or just let it die. Thanks!


	5. Arrest

After the Elder exited, I sat back down on my bed. My head swam as I contemplated the events that had just transpired. What was going to happen to me? What did the Elder mean by "We shall see..." Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Or maybe... maybe he was going to temporarily promote me? Check out my prowess in battle? I doubted it, but it was the only hope I had. As I debated my future, a tall, bulky young man burst into my room. I looked up in alarm at my friend, Kyp. His face had a wild look, and he said quickly to me, "Jack! You have to leave, tonight. The Elder is plotting to have you killed for your backtalk. He says that you'll fight to the death if you are a real soldier!"

"What?! How do you know?" I asked, my mind racing as I thought back to the Elder's cool blue gaze.

"I'm a soldier. We were just briefed, and I came as fast as possible," he replied.

"Do you really think he'll kill me?" But even as I said it, I knew that he would. After seeing his steely blue eyes, I knew that the Elder was a man used to power, and a man that would destroy anyone that questioned that power. Kyp nodded, and left quickly. I got up from my bed and crossed to my cabinet, placing my meager belongings into my pack. As I crossed the threshold of my door, I paused. Where would I go? What would I do? I decided to go to Kyp's house to stay until night time.

The cool desert air felt nice against my face as I crept slowly out of Kyp's back door. I stealthily moved away from the camp, escaping into the barren wasteland of the desert. As I sprinted to freedom, I heard a noise and fell as a bola wrapped itself around my legs like a python. As I lay against the hard ground, soldiers approached, accompanied by the Elder.

"Well, well. You would rather run than fight. How unlike a soldier. But, we will give you another chance," He stated, before kicking me in the face, rendering me unconscious.


	6. Arena

I woke up in a stable filled with grass. My head pounded, and my heart was racing. As I took stock of my surroundings, my eyes rested upon a sword, glowing with the blue technical glow of an apprentice-class weapon. I raced over and snatched up my saving grace, holding it up in front of me as though to ward off enemies that weren't quite there yet. As I gazed at the rest of the empty stable, my mind raced. Where was I? What was happening? Was it carelessness that landed this sword in my possession, or a more sinister motive? As I contemplated this, an adobe door at the opposite end opened, and harsh sunlight spilled into the room, blinding me.

The imposing silhouette of the chief appeared in the doorway, and he beckoned me forward. Enraged, I sprinted towards him, prepared to take down my enemy once and for all. Just as I was preparing for my downward strike, he stepped away, and I barreled past him, my feet hitting first wood flooring, then air. I tumbled through the air, the sword falling from my grasp to land on the ground about ten feet below. Pure instinct told me to tuck and roll, but the impact still knocked the wind out of me, and my knees came up to hit me in the chest. As I gathered my bearings, the sound of stone grating against stone greeted my ears, and I looked to where the noise was coming from.

The grating sound was coming quite possibly from the worst source possible for me: a behemoth stone gateway. I took a moment as the doors opened to look at my surroundings. My predicament became quite clear to me through my observations. I was in the desert coliseum, a massive sandstone structure made up of thousands of arches supporting the massive ring on top. Legend told that structures such as these were used to house gladiatorial fights, sporting events in which warriors fought against each other or beasts. Something told me this was the latter. As the gate opened, my horror increased: An enormous green, scaly head weaved through the opening. Following the head came a massive green body. One of the wyvern's eyes was cloudy gray, and had a jagged yellow line running down the center. Lime green frills ran down the sides of the beast's face, and huge fangs jutted out from its partially open mouth. It tilted its head as it focused on me, and roared.

My hands trembled as I scrambled for my blade, and I tried to clear my mind in order to form a strategy. I thought back to everything I knew about wyverns and the different breeds, but my limited knowledge only told me the type of wyvern this fiend was: poison. A poison wyvern could shoot gas bombs at the enemy, temporarily rendering an area inhospitable with a cloud of gas. Had I not known this, I would've stayed there and formulated a strategy. Lucky for me that I started running, because the wyvern reared its ugly head and launched a stream of gas at my prior position. As I ran, my eyes scanned the coliseum for anything helpful. It appeared that the chief had decided to give me at least a sporting chance, as my gaze happened across a gleaming metal compound bow. As a stream of poison flowed in front of my face, I sucked in air and turned the opposite way. For a horrifying moment, my feet kicked up dust but didn't propel me forward. Then, they found traction and I sprinted towards the bow.

It was at that moment that the wyvern decided to take a more direct approach, and it leapt into the air, landing directly in my path. I cursed silently under my breath, but I continued to run. A foolhardy plan was forming in my mind, and I determined that it held the best odds for my survival. The wyvern darted its head forward to bite, but I jumped and rolled to the right, landing on my feet to continue running through the wyvern's legs. I couldn't help but laugh as I dropped the sword and snatched up the bow and arrows, turned, and loosed an arrow at the wyvern's flank. The metal arrow buried itself in the wyvern's leg, and it screeched in pain. Quickly, I loosed two more towards the beast as it twisted around towards me. The bowstring was incredibly difficult to pull back, but my muscles were toned and powerful from hours of farm work. Before I had a chance to admire my handwork, I turned and sprinted away. I felt bad about killing the wyvern, but I didn't have much choice.

I could feel the wyvern thundering towards me, so I stopped, pivoted, and released an arrow. It streaked towards the wyvern and punched a hole in the right frill. The wyvern stopped and trembled, screaming in pain. I took this opportunity to launch yet another metal missile at the head of the fiend. This arrow punched a hole in the left frill, and the wyvern's head whipped back and forth in agony. I felt a pang of remorse as I fired more arrows towards the wyvern, piercing its hide in four different spots. As the wyvern wailed and waved in pain, I sprinted around it, grabbed my sword, and launched into phase 2 of my crazy plan. I ran at full speed towards the outcrop where the chief and a small audience of important individuals watched. A look of panic flashed across a few of their faces, as though they anticipated my actions, and they turned to flee.

My gleaming blade flashed in the sun, slashing across the wooden supports of the perch, and it came crashing down. I hastily climbed up my makeshift ramp of destruction, and I reached the top just in time to see the chief and his lackeys fleeing on a pair of Gallimimus. Rage blossomed in my chest, but I smothered it. I turned to take one last look at the wyvern, still limping around the stadium, its one good eye searching for me.

I faced the desert, and set off in search of my destiny, one that I already knew would involve revenge.


	7. Scarred

After about four hours of wandering aimlessly in the desert, I realized my mistake: I had no supplies, and no idea where to go. I had never been this far away from the village, and I had only ever heard about the coliseum I had just fought in. Like the wyvern cavern by Blue Obelisk, I had mainly assumed this place was a location I'd never see. The only good thing about my aimless wandering was that it provided time for introspection. I realized I was pretty hot-headed and dramatic when I demanded to be a soldier, but I also determined that my actions hardly warranted death by wyvern. The Wyverns were so powerful that we rarely worried about the other powerful tribe at Blue Obelisk because they were so busy fighting off wyvern attacks. The only reason I was able to escape the one they sicced on me was that it was old and lulled into a false sense of security because of its domestic upbringing. It was feeble and pathetic, and weapons were placed around the coliseum to give me a sporting chance. I held no illusions that I could fight a real wyvern with nothing but a bow and some arrows.

After my introspection and determination that I was doing something stupid, I trekked back to the coliseum to scrounge for supplies. After about an hour of searching, I had only found a metal hatchet, a rusty metal pick, a leather journal with a map, a crate full of berries and spoiled meat, and a canteen for water. I figured nobody would mine, so I demolished my makeshift wooden ramp and the outcropping to get some wood and fiber. By the time I'd finished packing, the sun was setting. The desert was far too dangerous to travel alone at night, so I curled up on an old sack and slipped into sleep.

During my slumber, dreams hammered me relentless. All were strange, but one dream stuck out to me in particular. Three terror birds, colored red, green, and blue, were herded into a ravine by the shadow of a large predator. Noiselessly, they bickered, each trying to kill the others in order to be the one to make it out alive. But in the end, the terror birds killed each other, leaving the shadow of the predator a lavish feast.

I woke from sleep feeling refreshed and energized. I gathered my supplies, my hatchet, sword, and pick tucked into my belt and my bow on my back along with my backpack. With a renewed sense of purpose, I set off in the direction of the Green village. My journal had a detailed map, and whoever the previous owner was had travelled quite a bit, as the map was filled with markings and locations. As I walked, I thought. I thought about my plans, what I was going to do now. I knew I couldn't take on Green Village by myself, but truthfully, I didn't want to. Killing an entire village because one man wronged me seems suspiciously like something the villain in the story would do. But I also knew that killing the chief outright would bring me no satisfaction and would simultaneously make him a martyr and me a villain. I didn't want to kill the elder, I wanted to depose him and show him just how stupid he was.

After a while, I slipped into some sort of hiking trance. My legs moved, but my mind was numb. I barely registered the growls behind me until it was too late. Sharp claws dug into my skin as a thylacoleo pounced onto me. I twisted and fell to the ground, reaching for my sword as I tumbled. My left hand barely held the thylacoleo from wrapping its maw around my head as my right hand struggled to get my sword free. The thylacoleo eased up for a moment to gear up for a strong attack, but it was too late. That pause was all the time I needed to wrest my sword free and plunge it into the breast of the beast. It took a moment to heave the beast off of me, and I felt weak from blood loss. I used my hatchet to strip the hide from the meat, and used some stones and wood to set up a small fireplace to cook my meal.

Unsure of what to do about the gashes in my back, I cleaned off some strips of hide as best I could and wrapped them around my torso like bandages. I ate my Thylacoleo steak as night set in, and marveled at the beauty of the sky. I held no illusions of getting a good night's sleep with the desert all around me. I had no companions, which meant the night watch was just mine.


	8. Prophecy

As much as I hate to admit it, I passed out during the night for about an hour, and awoke to a sunny morning. The sand was hot against my face, and I felt dehydrated. I made my way over to one of the tall cacti, and slammed my pick into the base. Cool cactus sap flowed from the wound, and I lapped it up greedily. My heart was filled with trepidation, but I was determined. By my estimations, I would reach the Green Village tonight. My plan was simple: I would steal into the village, and kidnap the chief. It was that simple. One simple act, and I would have all the time in the world to exact my revenge. Any and all citizens that stood in my way would receive a swift arrow through the neck.

My vengeful musings were interrupted by the sudden arrival of a small settlement. It was _small_ , no more than four or five houses, the largest of which was only about 3x3 foundations. As I stumbled into their small community, an old man walked out of the largest house, holding a shotgun.

"Stop right there," he ordered. I stopped.

"I mean you no harm. I am a runaway of the Green Village; I'm injured and starving. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay here to rest a while, but then I will leave you alone." The old man didn't look very convinced, but he lowered the shotgun. He gestured towards a rickety wooden bench, then shuffled back into his adobe home. I was sitting for about five minutes when an old woman came shuffling out of the large home. She walked over to me, and began rubbing salve on my wounds. I felt a prick, and jerked around to see what happened. The old woman was holding a blood pack and was injecting it into my body. Under normal circumstances, I'd be upset, but I could already feel the healing effects of the IV.

After a few more minutes, the woman retrieved her needle from my flesh and left without a word. Shortly thereafter, the old man from earlier came with an ornate walking stick and sat down beside me.

"Do you mean us harm?" he asked.

"No, I'm a fugitive from Green Village," I replied.

"You are a criminal, no?" he said. Though phrased as a question, it sounded more like a statement.

"Well, yes," I replied sheepishly, "but I was punished wrongly by a man with too much power."

"So you are innocent?" He asked. In truth, I didn't know how to answer this. Had I cost Tugg his life and then angrily requested to be promoted? Yes. But had I also been punished far more than what was warranted by my actions? Definitely. So was I innocent of a crime that warranted my punishment? Yes. I explained my final decision on the matter to the older man.

"What's your plan?" he asked. I'd thought about this a bit over the past few hours. At the moment, I supposed my plan was to travel to Blue Obelisk, convince the occupants to help me go to war against my old village, and kill the elder.

"I suppose I'm going to visit Blue Obelisk and convince them to help fight with me," I said, but the old man was shaking his head. He stood, slammed his stick onto the ground. Sound reverberated through my skull at an impressive volume, considering that he had hit sand. He spoke:

" _The power of three converges in one_

 _Harness those of Storm, Cloud, and Sun_

 _One survivor must atone_

 _for the sins of the flesh, the blood, and the bone._

 _Unite the nations, and rest upon a sandy throne."_

He slumped back onto the bench as he finished, as though summoning the poem had taken all his energy. Chills ran down my spine after I heard the poem-no, I was sure that this was a prophecy. I was't sure why, but it made my flesh crawl.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Last night, I touched my settlement's most treasured possession, and the prophecy was spoken into my mind. Then, you show up. I believe that you are the survivor in this prophecy. If you wish to survive, you must unite the peoples of this land. Of that, I am sure."

With that, he stood and strode back into his house, returning shortly holding a strange object. The object was like nothing I'd ever seen. The air around it seemed to warp and twist, so that the object constantly seemed to pass through a magnifying glass or cup of water. The inside shone with a dull red light.

"It is customary for every great leader to hold this artifact and pray." He handed it to me, and for a moment nothing happened. Then, the artifact flashed brightly, and then the light flooded into me, absorbed through my skin. The artifact's light went out, but my veins glowed red through my skin. After a moment, the red faded, but I felt more powerful than before, better prepared to take on the world. I waited for the old man to say more, but he just silently took the artifact and walked back inside.


	9. Superhuman

I spent another two days in the village. It was an odd time, as I said no words to anyone at all. I set up a tent about a hundred feet from the main part of the village, and only visited to refill my water and pick up firewood. For the most part, I spent my time sparring with the various cacti and trees. I wasn't exactly sure whether or not I was getting any better, as the vegetation didn't fight back, but I was certainly getting stronger. When I wasn't sparring, I went around and picked berries from the bushes, stripping them of their valuable narcoberries to use in tranquilizers. On my third day in the village, I walked to the well to find it blocked. A wooden circle covered the well, and I got the message: my time to leave had arrived.

I visited the elder one last time that afternoon, and he pointed me in the general direction of the Blue Village. Although keen to get on my journey, I realized I wasn't quite ready to venture into the wilderness with just my meager weapons. My first step in leaving the village behind was to move about six miles away, where I stopped outside a natural well of water. Instead of a tent, I used thatch, wood, and fiber to build a moderately large shack. Not exactly sure how long I'd stay there before taking action, I decided to prepare for the long haul. My daily routine usually consisted of hunting in the morning, collecting resources and berries around noon, building structures and things to help in my private war in the afternoon, and then planning and sleeping at night.

It wasn't until my tenth day in my new home that something interesting happened. I was hunting as usual in the morning, but I'd strayed slightly farther from my home than usual. After skewering a jerboa through the eye with an arrow, I heard a low growl behind me. Slowly, I turned around to find a remarkably large dire wolf crouched low to the sand, fangs bared, and looking at me the way I looked at cooked raptor. I nocked in arrow to shoot my foe when I heard another growl behind me. I quickly assessed the new situation: there were two dire wolves immediately behind me, and one in front of me. As long as I stayed still, they seemed cautious, so I didn't move a muscle as I plotted my course of action. With my plan ready, I acted swiftly.

Fast as lightning, I launched an arrow through the body of the wolf in front of me, then dropped my bow in favor of the razor sharp sword at my belt. As I spun around, I yanked my sword from my built, smoothly slashing the throat of the second wolf that launched itself at me. The third wolf was already on its way, and I couldn't get my blade up fast enough. Heavy paws thudded against me, keen claws tearing into my shoulder. As the pain washed over my body, something else did too. A rush of strength and adrenaline coursed through my veins and threw the wolf from my chest. I rocketed to my feet and drove my blade through the heart of the beast. As celebrated my victory, pain shot through my shoulder as the first wolf snarled and sank its teeth into my shoulder. I screamed and fell to the ground. The jet-black predator howled and attacked me again, my gleaming silver arrow still sticking out of its chest. With my left arm basically motionless, I pounded my fist into the area around the arrow-wound. The wolf yelped, and I took the opportunity to grab my sword. I rolled out of the way and let out another scream as my decimated shoulder touched the ground. I slashed at the beast before me, tracing a thin line of blood along its side. The wolf took a step back, its haunches raised, then turn and ran away into the desert.

Suddenly woozy from blood loss, I collapsed onto the ground. I chanced a look at my shoulder, and almost died of revulsion. A rather large portion of my shoulder was missing, and I imagined I could see part of the bone. Grotesque tooth markings ran along the edge of the injury. I was shocked I hadn't passed out yet. In fact, I wasn't even bleeding that much. Sure I was woozy, but I should've been dead after enduring my injuries and fighting like that. But even as I watched, my veins glowed incandescent red again, and the wound slowly began to knit itself back together. Muscle and sinew, skin and bones reconnecting, stretching out across the wound and stitching together. I can only imagine what I must've looked like to anyone watching. As the process completed, I checked my chest for the claw-marks the other wolf would have left. Not surprisingly, those wounds were gone too.

My guess was that whatever energy I'd absorbed from the artifact in the village, it changed me. And so far, I was liking those changes. Apparently my regenerative abilities only kicked in _after_ combat, however, because it sure as hell hurt when those wolves attacked, and my wounds were certainly opened while fighting. Which meant, unfortunately, that I couldn't rely on my superhuman abilities to protect myself. If there had been even one more wolf, or something stronger had attacked, I don't think I would have made it. I needed help; I needed an army.


	10. Morellatops

For an army, both animal and human, I needed resources. Luckily, my base of operations had slowly been expanding over my stay there. So far, my resting place consisted of a decent sized room with a bed against one wall, a small kitchen, and a storage area for domestic accessories such as cloth clothes and desert protection, my canteen, and trophies from a few of my more dangerous opponents. I also had a separate workshop building, complete with three refining forges, a smithy, several mortal and pestles, and three large storage cabinets. I'd also left room for a few more advanced structures if I needed them. Beside the workshop, I had an armory constructed, complete with racks of dull swords, bolas, spears, and quivers of wooden arrows. I had a shoddy farm built near the natural well in my compound, and I had a few crop plots sitting unused. Without fertilizer, they didn't have the nutrients they needed to grow real food. The final building I had constructed was my planning room. It was long and kind of narrow, with a long wooden table right in the center. The table was littered with diagrams and notes I'd taken on my memories of the Green Village. On one wall hung a large version of the map in my notebook. It was painstakingly detailed with every note and dot on my notebook.

In order to furnish my compound with soldiers, I'd need transportation. In order to get transportation, I'd need tranquilizers. Luckily, I already had a decent supply of tranquilizer arrows in the armory. After all, the only man I truly wanted to kill was the chieftain of the Green village. I grabbed a quiver of tranq arrows and my bow and set off in search of my first tame. I needed something herbivorous but large, so that it would remain unmolested by carnivores, but also be a great way to get berries.

After about an hour of searching, I found the perfect beast: a morellatops. This hulking herbivore had size and power on its size. The perfect caravan creature, my heart was immediately set on having one. I chose an arrow from my quiver an nocked it on my bowstring. From what I knew about morellatops, they were shy creatures and would run from danger. Because of this, I lined up my position so that the morellatops would run into an area crowded with huge rocks. I pulled back the string, lined up my shot, and let fly. The arrow hit the morellatops right in the head, sending its tranquilizing juice through the beast's blood. It bellowed and ran in the opposite direction, with me in hot pursuit. Because I shot while sprinting, a few of my arrows went wild, but I managed to land a few more shots while the morellatops ran into my trap. When it realized that it was trapped, it turned and ran in a different direction, back towards me. I used this time to stay still and land several more arrows on the creature's sides. I took off after it when it started to get too far away. Somehow, my legs didn't feel as tired as they should with all the running. I sank two more arrows into my prey before it finally collapsed into a heap. I caught up to it and fed some berries into its mouth.

A few hours and hundreds of berries later, my new friend awoke. I could immediately see the difference in the way it looked at me. I rested a hand on it, and something startling happened: my hand glowed a soft red, and the light seemed to enter the morellatops. For a moment, the creature seemed to glow with that same red light. I blinked, and the moment passed. But I could feel something now, a connection between me and the morellatops. I started to walk away, and the morellatops stood there. I stopped, confused as to why it wasn't following me.

"Come on," I ordered, my voice hoarse after days of no use. At that moment I recognized another dilemma I faced: how was I supposed to ask for help and recruit soldiers if I couldn't speak. Anyways, back to the problem at hand. Surprisingly, at my command the morellatops lumbered towards me. I turned and walked back towards the compound, the morellatops in tow.

Arriving at the compound, I set to work on crafting a saddle for the morellatops. Once complete, I strapped it to the beast and hauled myself up onto the creature. I gripped the reins and steered my mount off into the desert in search of other conquests.


End file.
